Inklings
by Ocean's Timbre
Summary: "As the attractive blond leaned over him, Numair could not help but feel very aware of Daine's presence, just feet from him." -Numair ponders his changing feelings towards Daine and how much she means to him.


_A/N: Hello good and faithful readers! This little plot bunny just popped into my head last night and was too darn cute to resist. As per usual, it's from Numair's point of view, with almost fluff and angst thrown in. It takes place sometime after _Emperor Mage_, but before the barrier fell, therefore before Numair realizes he is in love with Daine. However, Numair is a smart man, so that won't keep me from torturing him haha! On a side note, I am still working on _Catalyst_, contrary to your belief I'm sure. I've been really busy with finals lately, but luckily my Christmas break starts at the end of the week and lasts a month, so expect updates soon to come. Thanks for your patience! Anyway, please enjoy, and reviews are greatly appreciated! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own _The Immortals_, for I am not the great Tamora Pierce._

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_**Inklings**_

The eating house was _crowded_. Grimy oaken wood tables and chairs were _squeezed_ into any possible available space, leaving scarce room for movement. The air was _stifling_ hot, creating a muggy and gray fog that mixed with the smoke of cooking and the occasional pipe smoker. Card games and other forms of gambling were going on in various corners of the room, piles of copper, silver, and even gold coins glinting tantalizingly on tabletops. At other corners, bards and musicians struck up familiar tunes causing some customers to dance and sing along. At other tables, prostitutes draped themselves seductively over client's laps. Scuffles and fights occasionally broke out. Yellow skinned Yamanis, dark Carthakis, and tan Copper Islanders were relatively equal in number. Common and foreign voices alike could be heard through the boisterous laughter and talk. Behind the counter, maidservants labored over brewing fresh ales and other drinks, occasionally wiping beads of sweat off their foreheads. Likewise, the cooks hastened to prepare hot and fresh meals, their thin aprons sweat stained.

Through the entire goings on, no one noticed the group of three travelers that seemed slightly out of place. Nestled in a relatively quiet corner, the three nursed kegs of ale and platters of steaming food. If one briefly glanced at them, one would notice nothing different about the small group. However, if one had keener eyes, they would notice that all three were fully armed with an assortment of bows and quivers, a sword, and a knife. Although they were dressed casually, one could notice glimpses of wealth in the appearances of the man, who wore an amber ear drop, and older woman, who wore a red pendant. The group seemed deep in conversation, yet their eyes roamed warily over the crowd, muscles tense. Out of the three, the man seemed the most uncomfortable. Donned in black boots and breeches and a loose white shirt, he ran a large hand through his coal black hair, tied back in a short horsetail. His full mouth formed a grim line, and his swarthy brow was furrowed. The mage Numair Salmalin leaned forward in his chair, his deep brown eyes trained on the younger of his companions.

"Can you tell what they are saying, Magelet?" He asked, his mid range voice quiet so that only his two companions could hear.

The girl—young woman, really—that he directed his question to sat directly to his left at their small round table, and currently had bat's ears in place of her human ones. With smoky brown curls that tumbled down her back and shoulders, blue-gray eyes, and a stubborn chin, Veralidaine Sarrasri was a sight to be seen. Dressed in tan breeches, a blue shirt, and supple leather boots, her slender form was locked in concentration.

"Nothing _useful_," she sighed, relaxing and settling down into her chair, returning her ears back to normal. "They won't shut up about gambling and women."

"Ah well. We'll just give it some time then," said the older woman, sitting across from Numair and to Daine's left, patting the girl's hand at her disgruntled and frustrated look.

Dressed in a leather jerkin with a sword strapped to her hip, the short statured, copper haired Alanna the Lioness fingered the ruby pendant around her throat. "Myles and George didn't expect us to get through with this in a few days, now did they?"

"That they did not," said Numair dryly, clasping his hands in front of him on the table. "We've barely been home a month, and Jon already has us gallivanting across the country on Crown business."

The two women nodded tiredly. All three had been part of the peace delegation sent to Carthak, the events of which are another tale in and of itself. They had barely been in Corus a month when King Jonathon of Conte had approached them with an assignment. Alanna's husband George and her adoptive father Myles, the Spy Master, were stretched thin at the moment. All their contacts and informants were concentrated on Carthak's precarious position. However, there had been talk of one of Jon's lords being involved in some illegal activities. Who better than to send than three of Jonathon's most trusted? That is how the small group of friends ended up in Port Caynn. Upon their arrival, they had decided to follow some of the lord's off duty guards; Alanna on foot, Daine in cat shape and Numair in hawk shape. Maybe drink would loosen their tongues about the activities their master was involved in.

"You just want to get back to your books don't you, Master Mage?" Said Daine teasingly and poking Numair in the side, lightening the mood considerably.

Numair smiled broadly, tweaking her nose. "Yes, that's part of it, Magelet, I have to admit," he said warmly.

Since their ordeal in Carthak, Numair had noticed the dynamic between Daine and himself had changed somewhat, at least on his side of things. Their relationship as student and teacher, friend and colleague, had grown into something more, yet Numair could not identify it nor place a finger on it. An intelligent man, usually an unsolved problem like this would irk him, but for now he was content with shoving the conundrum in the back recesses of his mind.

"Yes, we can't keep him from his dusty old tomes, now can we, Daine?" Said Alanna mischievously, her amethyst eyes twinkling. One of her favorite activities was teasing Numair. "Hopefully he won't frighten _another_ poor maid who puts one of his books slightly out of place!"

At this, Daine and Alanna laughed as Numair, slightly pink, picked at his food. He was used to their teasing, but it was Daine's laugh that unsettled him. It was clear and loud and pealing, and it seemed to pierce him right through his heart. He suddenly felt warm inside at being the cause of her happiness even if for a moment, and even though it was at his expense.

Suddenly, the close knit bubble around the companions seemed to pop. The atmosphere of the eating house leaked in, all the sights and sounds becoming louder and more apparent. The cause of the change was walking directly toward Numair. A tall curvaceous blond sauntered over to their table, taking as much notice of Daine and Alanna as if they were part of the wall behind them.

"Why hello, handsome!" drawled the blond, straddling a surprised Numair, her _very_ voluptuous chest inches from his long nose. "How's about you leave your two lady friends and I'll give you a very nice treat upstairs?" she said, whispering hotly into his ear.

Numair had to admit, this woman was very similar to the women he had dalliances with, although of less noble blood. And having lived on the streets of Corus for seven years, he was not a stranger to one of her profession. She had red pouty lips, and her dress clung to all the right places. Normally, Numair would have found someone like her attractive. However, he suddenly became very aware of Daine's presence, just feet from him.

His dark skin turning a bright red, Numair leaned as far back as he could in his chair. "A very tempting offer, madam, but I must decline. I'm sure you can find a more suitable man than I who would be more than willing," he said, trying to apply a sense of grace to the situation. His voice only slightly conveyed the embarrassment and inner turmoil within him.

The woman leaned back slightly, twisting Numair's black horsetail around one finger seductively. "Alright. If you change your mind, you know where to find me, Longshanks." Rising up from Numair's lap, she winked at him and disappeared into the crowd, looking for a more receptive and more wealthy client.

Numair, his face still tinted red, turned back to his companions only to find Daine and Alanna laughing loudly, tears of mirth streaming down their faces.

"Enough,' growled Numair, his voice stern yet good natured. "Shall we get back to business?"

At his statement, Daine and Alanna sobered up at once, their faces becoming serious. Numair and Alanna leaned in close as Daine changed her ears to that of a bat's, listening in on the conversation of the off duty guards a few tables behind them.

"They're still not letting anything slip," said Daine, her brow furrowed. "They're all fair drunk."

"Well, we can sit here all night until they pass out or we can come up with a plan!" said Alanna, pounding a fist on the table, impatience evident in her tone.

Numair sighed, tugging at his long nose, thinking. What could they do? From what they had gathered, the guards were involved in their lord's crimes, or at least knew about his schemes. The information would be vital in bringing the lord to justice. Maybe Daine could shift into a cat and hide underneath their table. But no, that wouldn't work. Animals usually weren't allowed in eating houses. Numair, still lost in thought, glanced at Daine and immediately noticed her expression. Her blue-gray eyes glinted, a mischievous grin crossing her face.

"I've an idea," she said, whispering and leaning in towards Alanna and Numair, pushing plates and kegs aside. "What if I went over there and…you know…" Suddenly at a loss for words, Daine just motioned in the direction the blond woman had gone.

Numair immediately caught her meaning. "Absolutely not!" his tone firm and heated. "I will not allow you to…to…use your body in that sort of way to just—

"I think it's an excellent idea," said Alanna, interrupting Numair's blustering. "George gave you a little training in spy work before hand, didn't he Daine?"

Daine nodded. "He showed me a trick or two."

"It's settled then!" said Alanna, immediately handing their half eaten meals off to a maidservant.

"It is very well _not_ settled!" said Numair, somehow managing to keep his voice quiet yet contain all the disapproval he could muster. Daine immediately saw him beginning to become over protective. She took his large hands in her two smaller, slender ones.

"Odds bobs, Numair! I'll be _fine_! George said that if I'm to do more spying for him, I need to learn how to actually _spy_. A situation may come up where being one of the People is too dangerous, or some such. I have to learn this way too. It's _needful_."

Numair, seeing that there was no stopping her, tried to quell the worry rising up within him. "If something, _anything_, starts to go wrong, you come _straight back here_, understand?" he said, smoothing an errant curl away from Daine's face.

She nodded, a determined light entering her eyes. Taking a last sip of ale, Daine tugged her shirt down until she revealed more cleavage than was appropriate. At Numair's dumbfounded expression, Daine laughed. "I have to look the part, now don't I?"

Numair, still speechless, watched as Daine sauntered away towards the guard's table. Alanna just snorted. "A stubborn lass, she is," she said, taking a large drink of her ale.

Numair nodded in agreement, not taking his eyes off Daine. "Too stubborn, if you ask me," he said, but not really meaning it. Her stubbornness was one of the many qualities that made Daine who she was.

Numair watched as Daine reached the guard's table. There were about seven or eight of them, all burly and well built. Some were foreign, while others sported the haircut often worn by soldiers. Ex military, then. All of them were, however, at least twice Daine's age. Numair felt rage boil beneath his skin as he saw the men's eyes linger hungrily over Daine. He watched as Daine said something to them, and they all laughed. He watched as she declined the chair they offered her. Instead, she leaned her curvy waist and sharp hips against the edge of the table, stretching her legs out behind her and placing her chin on her hands as her elbows rested against the tabletop.

All of a sudden, Numair began to finally feel the heat that filled the eating house, which was unusual because he was used to warm climates. He gazed at Daine's toned legs as they stretched out behind her, the lines of her slender waist, and the curve of her back. He stared at her mass of curls and bright eyes, framed by long dark lashes. He took in the arch of her stomach and the swell of her—

Numair looked away suddenly, knowing that his thoughts were straying into _very_ dangerous territory. Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, Numair buried his face in his hands. By the gods, what was he _thinking_? Lately, he had been _acutely_ aware of the beautiful young woman his student was becoming. He had noticed it in Carthak, and more so upon their return. He also noticed that he wasn't the only one who saw, either. Upon their return, young men, and even some that were older, pursued Daine relentlessly. To Numair's surprise, she had returned some of their affections. When he had first met Daine, Numair remembered how shy she was and how she lacked self-confidence. Now, Daine had not only gained self confidence in every day life, but also where men were concerned.

Steeling himself, Numair was lost in his mix of shame, anger, jealousy, worry, and protectiveness. For a moment, he felt on the edge of an epiphany but found it just out of his reach, like grains of sand escaping a closed fist. He had an inkling of a feeling that maybe…

Suddenly, laughter pierced the air, interrupting Numair's train of thought. He would know that laugh anywhere. Instead of feeling warm inside as he did earlier, Daine's laugh caused him to wince. Cautiously turning in his chair, Numair glanced at the guard's table and immediately wished that he hadn't. Daine now sat in one of the men's laps and was plying him with ale, trying to get him drunk enough to let something slip, Numair supposed. Returning to his former position, Numair groaned.

"Numair, are you all right?" said Alanna worriedly, interrupting Numair's inner turmoil.

"This feels _wrong_, Alanna," he said, referring to Daine's current situation as well as his unvoiced feelings. His face was still buried in his hands.

Alanna must have heard the worry, pain, and confusion in Numair's voice. "Don't worry about her, Numair. She was right about the spy work, and this will be a quick and easy way to get the information we need. You more than anyone should know that it's easy for men to let secrets slip to a woman they bed."

At this, Numair leapt unconsciously from his chair. "I will not allow Daine to—!"

"Of course you won't Numair, and neither will I!" Said Alanna, silencing Numair with an amethyst glare. "We won't let it get that far. If something goes wrong, we're right here to help her. She won't leave our sight."

Slowly, Numair sat back down. Eyes wide and nostrils flaring, his body tensed and his large hands gripped the table until he was white knuckled. The thought of Daine in bed with _anyone_ made Numair's blood _boil_.

Alanna noticed his expression. Taking out her belt knife, she began twirling it as she leaned back in her chair. "You've got to give Daine more credit Numair. She's smart, and she's not the thirteen year old girl we both met almost four years ago. She's becoming a young woman, and soon she'll find a buck of her own and settle down. You know she won't appreciate your over protectiveness then." At that last statement, both mage and lioness thought back to Carthak and Kaddar, as well as the incident with Ozorne.

At her words, the fight seemed to drain out of Numair. Skin turning slightly gray, he sagged in his chair and ran a hand tiredly through his crisp mane. "I know Alanna. I know," he said, his voice quiet and hoarse. "I've always known that she's more mature than most people our age. She's been through so much. I've tried to protect what innocence she has left. I've watched her grow from a country bred girl to an educated woman. I taught her how to harness and use her magic, but in reality she has taught me more than I have her. She's so _good _Alanna. She knows me inside and out and accepts me as I do her. She's my best friend, and the closest thing I have to family. I just don't want to _lose_ her. It feels like I do more and more every day. And to think how close I came to losing her in Carthak for _good_…"

At this, Numair's eyes suddenly became overly bright, and his throat seemed to close up. He looked away from Alanna's kind gaze, not wanting to see what was hidden there. Alanna grasped his hand.

"Numair, look at me," she said, squeezing his palm. He did so, taking a large breath. "You won't lose Daine. She may grow up and have a family someday. Goddess knows that girls younger than her are already wed and have one or two babes. But _you_ are her family _too_. You've done so much for her, and she knows that. You've practically be inseparable since the day you met. Yours is a relationship that has always changed, partly due to Daine's age. You've been her teacher, friend, and colleague. You've acted as a father, uncle, and brother. You won't lose her"

Numair smiled a shaky smile at Alanna and squeezed her hand in thanks. Her words did comfort him, but also left him wondering. _Teacher_. _Friend_. _Colleague_. _Father_. _Uncle_. _Brother_. He had indeed played many roles in Daine's life. And he was proud of them. But how did he fit now? For some reason, his previous roles didn't feel like they were enough. He wanted to be _more_ to her.

At that moment, Daine ran back up to their table. Her curls were mussed, cheeks flushed, and her shirt was askew, exposing a bare shoulder. "I got what we needed!" she announced proudly. Numair glanced back at the guards. A few of them were passed out, their many cups of ale littered around them. Others swayed dangerously as they sang loudly with the bards. One even waved and winked at Daine, who didn't notice.

Turning quickly away, Numair returned his attention to Daine with half an ear as she filled himself and Alanna in.

_Let her go, Numair_. He thought to himself. _Let her go_. _Let her go_. _Let go_.

_**End**_

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_A/N: Wow. This turned out more depressing than I planned, but I quite like how it turned out. What did you think? Sorry if it seemed a little OOC, but I think I got them more into character towards the end. I know that Daine does a little spying in _Lady Knight_, so it got me to thinking how George got her started in the first place. And poor Numair! For an intelligent man, he sure can be fair oblivious at times! I love to torture him if you can't tell. I also loved writing Numair and Alanna together. They seem to bring out the best in each other occasionally! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and please review! Expect updates to _Catalyst_ soon!_


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